Mission: Oktoberfest
by Slug's bay
Summary: Jack and Tony find themselves with too much spare time on their hands. COMPLETE


**DISCLAIMER**: I don't own 24 or any of the characters.

_A/N This fic takes place before either Jack or Tony join CTU, during their military careers. Injured in combat, they meet in a military hospital for officers in Germany, where common misfortune forms a bond between them._

For the first time since his arrival, Jack Bauer showed the deep frustration that had threatened to drive him over the edge of sanity. Leafing through one of a never diminishing pile of old sports magazines; Tony watched his roommate and newest friend pretend all was well. The corner of his mouth turned up in an amused grin as the tables were so obviously reversed. For almost the entire period since his arrival at the military hospital for injured veterans of the ongoing mission of securing Iraq, Jack had struggled to keep his spirits up, using logic and humor to cajole Tony to eat his food and turn his face back from contemplating the while plastered wall and deal with life again. They were the lucky ones, he had argued. Their injuries were treatable. Sure they both faced months of intense physiotherapy, but it had to end sometime. The hours of daily physio would quit feeling as though he'd stepped into some medieval torture chamber and would merely hurt. Things were not that bad.

Tony returned from his first session with Dr. Walker, the head of the physiotherapy and rehabilitation unit vowing to put a bullet into his brain the moment he came across the first gun capable of firing a round. Blinking back the tears he was honor bound to hide from his fellow sufferer, he turned his face to the wall and predicted none of them would ever get to leave the hospital. Face red with fury and eyes filled with the same suffering the second day, he told an amused Jack that finding a rifle was no longer a necessity. He would strangle Dr. Walker with his bare hands! Once the nurse tucked him into bed after the third session and left the room he rolled over and propped himself on an elbow. 'Did I say I'd strangle that bastard?' he asked.

Jack nodded nonchalantly. Having arrived a week before the dark haired young Marine lieutenant, he understood exactly what he was going through. 'You did.'

'I take it back! Strangling's too quick! I'm gonna take him apart, piece by piece! That man feeds on human suffering!' Tony stared at the Ranger Captain in the room's other bed.

'You'll have to be quick then,' Jack informed him cheerfully. 'There are 40 other people on this corridor, and they're all ahead of you!'

The days assumed a monotone matched only by the arrival and departure of injured officers. Jack was the more patient of the pair, appearing unruffled by Tony's moodiness. Completely immobile due to his shattered knee, he attempted to occupy himself reading or watching TV. Tony took their enforced idleness harder. Able to drag himself along on crutches he managed to visit all the other rooms on the corridor and once made it outside into a rainstorm, drawing the ire of the entire medical staff on G ward. 'What the hell do you think you're doing, Lieutenant Almeida? You plan on skipping physio due to a cold? It won't happen. The US is paying plenty to keep you here. You should be ashamed.' Jack laid his book on the bed and watched two nurses undressing his unabashed roommate while Dr. Walker glared at him. 'So what did you hope to achieve?'

'Nothing in particular, sir. I just wanted to feel a little rain again,' Tony replied, sighing aloud as he was bundled back into bed.

'Try that again, I'll have you restrained,' Dr. Walker snapped. 'He leaves this room, I want you to ring for the nurse, Captain Bauer,' he finished, turning to Jack.

'I hate this place,' Tony snapped once he left, turning his face back towards the wall. 'My men are out there being led by an absolute maniac and I'm stuck in here coz that bastard refuses to sign my release forms. I'm fine!'

Jack stared in the greatest astonishment at that final statement. 'You can't walk, Tony,' he said gently. 'You're not seriously telling me you're fit for duty?'

'I can walk with my crutches,' Tony insisted. 'I'm a sniper, Jack; I don't need to walk far. I got to get back to my men, while I have any left.'

'You will,' Jack comforted. 'Tony, no one's going to certify you fit for duty if you can't lift your feet. You got to be able to do it and walk without crutches for that!' True to his expectations his roommate turned his face to the wall and refused to answer. 'Let's watch some TV.'

'Gee, why didn't I think of that?' Tony snapped, turning to face him with flashing eyes. 'Could it be because I don't speak German? Or could it be because we already watched all the movies on our own channel?' He grabbed his pillow and punched it several times, slamming it down.

'Why won't you call them?' Jack inquired casually, handing Tony a photo that lay on the bedside cabinet between them. To his surprise Tony dropped his gaze, fixing his eyes on anything and everything rather than him. 'You didn't tell them yet?' Jack guessed. 'When are you planning on doing so?'

'When I'm outa here,' Tony muttered, pushing himself up. 'I can't just call and say 'guess what mom, I'm in hospital in Germany. I got a busted right leg and swollen lower vertebrae and I can't even walk! She'll wanna know how it happened.' He turned the picture over and scowled round the room.

'They're gonna find out eventually' Jack argued. 'You should tell them now.' He threw a notebook and pen over to his roommate. 'Or get some rest.' Tony's scowl deepened, remaining on his face till he went for his customary hobble in the afternoon.

'Hi Jack,' he greeted as the captain returned from his own physiotherapy, his eyes sparkling.

'Oh oh,' Jack said, shaking his head. 'What did you do this time?'

'Not a thing,' the younger man assured him, unable to contain a grin. 'I was just gonna ask if you'd feel like joinin' me for a little drink tomorrow night.'

Jack sighed aloud. He had finally succumbed to the same depression everyone around him exhibited and was unable to show enthusiasm for any activity.

Tony narrowed his eyes, taking it as his personal mission to cheer his friend. 'You ever heard of the beer festivals they hold round here?' he inquired casually. 'The Oktoberfest?' His question had the desired result. Jack gave him an interested look and nodded. 'Well, its on tomorrow night and it would be a real shame to miss it,' Tony concluded.

'It'd be a crime,' Jack sighed.

'And I'm no criminal. You wanna join me?' Tony asked casually.

Jack snorted. 'You know we're not allowed out of the hospital,' he reminded the lieutenant. 'It's a military establishment; you can't just wander in and out at will! And there's no WAY IN HELL they'd let us out for that.'

Tony nodded. 'They probably wouldn't, if we'd ask. I was planning on sparing myself that. We get dinner at 6.30, right? Then a nurse comes to check us for the night and we're not bothered again till breakfast. Beer festival starts at 7:00. We'd be a little late, but it goes all night.' Sparkling eyes looked at Jack. 'It would be a lot better with a friend.'

Jack found the crazy idea appealing. The logistics required as detailed planning as a military operation. Early on in the planning session they came upon their first hurdle. They had a couple of US dollars between them but not a single Euro. It was decided that Tony, the more ambulatory among them, would find a bank the next morning and change their money. 'Hardly worth the trouble though, for 13 dollars,' Jack sighed. 'And how are you getting out? The gate is watched.'

Tony raised his eyebrows. 'The front gate is manned, yeah. The orderlies go through a side gate and it's barely checked.'

'So you're going out that way,' Jack guessed. 'Tony, I don't even know where our clothes are. How're you going out – in pajamas? The sleepiest sentry couldn't fail to miss that.'

'Did I forget to mention I found a store room where the orderlies hang their uniforms? I'll pick something up from there. Listen Jack, I'll go see whether I can find a little more cash.' He gave Jack another mischievous grin and left, leaving Jack unable to concentrate on the reruns of "I Love Lucy". The rest of the afternoon was spent visiting every room on the ward, chatting to all the idle officers and begging for dollars.

'Beer festival?' echoed a Marine captain, laughing till his sides ached. 'I never heard anything so outrageous in all my life! They'll be real pissed, Almeida.'

'Yeah, but this is a hospital and I'm a patient. What can they do about it?' Tony pressed. 'You got anything to lend me, sir? I'll pay it back when we return to Iraq.'

The captain handed him 20 dollars. 'It's all the cash I got. It's a gift. Have fun, and don't forget us thirsty guys stuck in hospital!'

'We got 103 dollars,' Tony told Jack, laying the money out on his bed. 'Am I good, or what?'

Jack ran the money through his hands. 'Looks like we're off to the festival,' he remarked.

'Oh, we're going, alright,' Tony assured him. The door opened unexpectedly and Jack moved, covering the notes and coins in a flash. A nurse appeared to make some notes on their charts, ordering Tony back to bed in no uncertain terms. Chewing his lip he obeyed her, his heart racing with excitement.

He set off on the first part of his mission immediately the breakfast trays were removed the following morning. The beginning of the operation proved most challenging as he was forced to hold the myriad coins in his hands under his crutches on his way to the elevator. Reaching the lower floor undetected, he slid into the orderlies' room and helped himself to a white gown and green trousers. To his relief someone had chosen to come to work in boots, leaving them by the lockers. He removed his slippers and slid his feet into them, placed the money into his overall's pocket and worked his way to the side entrance. It appeared deserted. Tony pushed open the doors and stepped out onto the street.

It appeared crowded at 9:30 in the morning. He dragged himself through the busy citizens and crossed a four lane highway with difficulty, heading for the bank he had seen from the captain's window. A man with an umbrella held it open for him and he threw him a grateful look, joining a long queue. Twenty minutes later he stood at a window facing a no nonsense middle aged woman who glared personally at all the quarters he laid before her.

'It's not this bank's policy to take coins,' she informed him, turning her attention to the crumpled bills.

Tony rubbed his face, calculating just how much they'd lose if she refused to take the army of quarters. 'Please do it today,' he begged.

The woman looked more displeased than before but she pulled the quarters to her after piling the notes and counted them out. She pushed a pile of Euros towards him. 'I have made an exception for you today, sir. Only today,' she told him and he nodded, thanked her and dragged himself to the door. Someone left the queue to hold it open for him and he mumbled his thanks.

It appeared they were destined to go to the Oktoberfest. He returned to the hospital and removed the clothes and boots, reaching his room without receiving more than a reprimand from the ward nurse who told him off mercilessly for discovering him in the corridor. The session with Dr. Walker that afternoon proved worse than usual. He added an extra weight to the exercise bar Tony was supposed to push his injured leg against and refused to listen to his complaints that his back felt as though it were being carved apart by fishing knives. 'You got to strengthen that leg,' he informed Tony, his eyes already searching for his next sacrifice. 'Your back hurts because the swelling hasn't entirely gone down yet. It will, in time.' He ignored the glare of pure hatred the lieutenant threw him.

Tony returned to his bed in a great deal of pain wanting nothing more than to be left alone to recover. Sensing his distress Jack remained silent until dinnertime. 'Bastard worked me real hard today,' Tony muttered, pushing the food around his plate. 'He added an extra weight!'

'He can probably tell you're getting stronger,' Jack comforted. 'Eat that, we will be drinking quite a bit.'

Time dragged while they fought to curb their impatience, as excited about the coming evening as a pair of school boys. Once their dinner was removed Tony slid out of bed and grabbed his crutches, moving over to release Jack's leg. He lowered it carefully and pushed a wheelchair over.

'I'm not going in that,' Jack told him, annoyed. 'I can use crutches as well as you.'

'Look Jack, we're gonna need something to push the beer back in,' Tony explained. 'For the other guys,' he added, seeing his friend's mystified expression. 'One of us must sit in the chair. We can take it in turns.' He moved over to the door and opened it a crack, using his reconnaissance skills to search the corridor. 'It's clear.' They arrived at the orderly room undetected, pulling on white tops and green trousers. Jack found an old pair of joggers which he slipped on leaving the same boots for Tony, who was busy slipping a grey raincoat over his clothes. 'That look ok?' he inquired casually, buttoning it up.

'Yeah,' Jack agreed, sitting back in the wheelchair. 'We look like a pair of escaped lunatics.'

'Lunacy is not a crime,' Tony commented as he followed his friend carefully along the corridor and out into the tiny garden. They exchanged conspiratorial winks once they left the hospital grounds, Tony hobbling on his crutches, Jack wheeling himself along until they reached the nearest bus stop. 'You got to ask someone which bus we need,' Tony told him.

Jack nodded and asked a young woman who appeared deeply sympathetic to their injuries. Before they knew it they were sitting on bus number 6 heading deeper into the city, instructed to get off where the rest of the passengers would disembark. More passengers piled on at every stop, a lot of them singing rowdy drinking songs. 'We're definitely headed the right way,' Jack commented. Once they reached their destination there was a general stir as the bus emptied. They followed the crowds over to an entrance and joined a queue, paying a few Euros each to gain admittance into an arena the middle of which contained several colorful tents.

By then Jack had borne the wheelchair as long as he could. 'It's your turn to sit down,' he insisted, grabbing one of Tony's crutches. 'I'll go get the beers.'

'I can get the beers,' Tony objected, hating the thought of sitting in the chair.

'I'll get them,' Jack told him firmly. 'We were supposed to take it in turns, remember? Don't make me pull rank, Tony.'

'Pull rank,' Tony muttered, frowning. 'You can't. You're a Ranger and I'm a Marine. I'm technically not subordinate…'

'Just gimme the crutches,' Jack interrupted impatiently and pushed Tony into the chair. He hopped through the crowds to a counter while Tony sighed aloud and propped his elbows on a large wooden table.

'Where did you escape from?' demanded a cheerful German who had obviously arrived a while ago. He settled on a bench and handed Tony an unopened can. 'Drink that.'

'Thanks.' Tony tried a strong brown ale, not daring to leave it for fear of offending his new acquaintance. The man reminded him of the question. 'Us Military Hospital,' he sighed.

His new friend sighed in sympathy and admitted he hated hospitals. 'You need another drink,' he told Tony. 'You want the same, or a different one?'

'A different one,' Tony said hurriedly. 'But I can't accept…'

'You must. This is your first Oktoberfest,' the man assured him and left, clapping him on the shoulder with such strength that Tony winced. _Come on Jack, how long can it take to buy a coupla beers? Where are you? _The German appeared before his friend returned, handing him a large paper cup of light beer. 'It's Danish. I always liked this one. What do you say?'

'It's great,' Tony replied, finishing the entire cup. 'Hi Jack.'

Jack settled opposite them, laying several cans on the table he had obviously struggled to carry over. 'You're something else, Tony,' he said, eyeing the empty glass. 'You remind me of a guy who followed me in a revolving door and came out first.'

Somehow the sentence struck Tony as unusually amusing and he laughed aloud. 'Jack, this is…' he paused, having no idea of the German's name.

'Hans,' the man introduced himself, handing Jack a beer. 'And you're from the same hospital.'

Jack nodded. 'Jack Bauer,' he introduced himself, thanking God he had been the one using the crutches. Somehow it seemed important not to show weakness before the giant.

'You're German,' the giant told him pleased, waving to a group of friends. They were all introduced, their names passing through Tony's head in a whirl. 'Someone get something to drink, some Heineken for me!' he cried.

Two of his friends set off with Jack, returning soon with a veritable collection of multi colored cans which were laid on the table. Dozens of hands dived into the pile and Tony grabbed the nearest can, a green one which he drank, listening to the beginnings of a song. Their new acquaintances joined in the song, thumping the table at appropriate intervals, causing the beer to slosh down the sides of their paper cups. 'Someone get something to drink, would you?'

By dawn Tony noticed himself and Jack singing as loudly as anyone else present, their voices fortunately drowned in the general racket. Crowds stumbled about, more than one tripping in either the crutches or the wheelchair, showering them with fresh beer, each new occasion proving hilarious. In fact, everything seemed hilarious, from the incomprehensible song they were singing to the large frankfurter laid in front of them. 'You must eat, or you will be sick. German beer is strong.'

'I need to get some beer for our friends back at the hospital,' Tony explained to Hans, handing him the last of the Euros. 'They're real thirsty too!'

'Ja, I'll get a few boxes,' Hans agreed and rose unsteadily. 'Which kind?' he demanded, leaning on the table.

Tony rubbed his hand over his face in a vain attempt to stop the cans spinning before him. Idly he reached into the center of the table and withdrew a green can, the color reminding him of his parents' garden he so sorely missed.

'You like Dutch beer, ja?' Hans cried, thumping him so hard on the back his eyes threatened to pop from his head.

'Ja,' he agreed, wondering what three of the group were discussing with Jack, explaining something passionately in German. Drunk as he was he failed to be surprised by his friend's cheerful agreement with a discussion he obviously understood nothing of. Somehow lack of comprehension seemed unimportant. An announcement interrupted the drinking, causing several groans and curses. 'What's that about?'

'It means the festival is over, they're not selling anymore drinks,' Hans explained, laying the two boxes on the table. 'For your friends. This one is one last one for you, Tony. You drink, then you go back to the hospital and shoot a lot of people! I'll help you to the bus stop.'

'Thanks,' Tony agreed, struggling to think what was wrong with the final statement about shooting in the hospital. It really didn't sound quite right, but he pushed the thought aside, finishing the can. They needed their new friends' help getting to the bus stop as Jack had proved even more popular than himself and was unable to leave the wheelchair without tumbling in a heap. In the end Hans lifted him into it and piled the boxes of beer into his lap with strict instructions to hang onto them. One of them pointed to the bus and left them, waving. They watched its approach in silence, the street swaying alarming around them.

Tony managed to push the wheelchair on and stood beside Jack, aware from the eyes of the bus driver that something was expected of them. Searching his memory he slipped his hand inside his pocket but felt nothing inside. The silence stretched, the driver looking at them impatiently. Tony opened the top box and handed him a can, receiving an icy stare.

'I think he wants money, Tony,' Jack struggled to explain.

He felt through his other pocket, turning them inside out in an attempt to locate any unnoticed coins in vain. 'We don't have any money,' he apologized. 'Have a beer.' Once again he laid the can beside the change.

The driver shook his head sternly. 'I can see you two obviously cannot walk, so I will let you on,' he decided, waving a hand towards the back of the bus. 'Sit down!' They sat in silence, eyes pressed shut against the intolerable swaying. Presently the bus stopped again, waking Tony who had fallen asleep. 'You two Americans, it's your stop.' They gazed uncomprehendingly at the driver. 'You got to get off,' he explained, moving over to them. 'That's your hospital.'

He pointed to a grey building with a couple of sentries in the front. A shudder ran through Tony and he shook his head. 'We're fine,' he told the startled man. 'We like this bus.'

'We don't want to get off,' Jack agreed.

'We want to stay on the bus,' Tony begged, struggling to get the words out.

'Now listen to me, you must go back or they will be looking for you soon,' the driver insisted a little more sympathetically. He pushed the wheelchair off and returned to help Tony with the crutches. 'Good luck, you two. You'll need it!' The bus set off again while they remained in the stop staring at it.

'We got to get back,' Jack sighed. 'This beer is gess gesh geshing heavy.'

'Yeah,' Tony agreed, pushing the chair as well he could with his undamaged knee. 'Shush!'

'Shush,' Jack agreed as they pushed the side door open and entered the dim corridor. Tony got them as far as the orderly room and they removed their clothes, the buttons on the coat proving more than he could deal with. Two of them remained in his hands and he stared at them in amusement, laughing till the tears poured from his eyes. 'Shtand shtill,' Jack told him, struggling to help, pulling the third button off. 'Oops!' Eventually Tony settled on the floor and pulled the coat over his head, remembering to place it on a chair. They hid the beer in the bottom of the cupboard and opened the door. Somehow they made it to the elevator, emerging just behind the swinging doors on their floor.

'What's going on?' Jack asked as they pressed their noses against the glass, watching the normally silent corridor in uproar. Three nurses sat at the duty station and Dr. Walker paced in front of them, shaking his head.

'Looks like they're waiting f for something.'

'For us,' Jack guessed, pressing his hand against his mouth to stop laughing. Tony leaned against the wall unable to contain his own mirth, shaking his head.

'Oh boy! They're gonna be indinanant… in di tant…'

'Pish' Jack tried, helpfully. 'Pished.'

'Mad,' Tony told him, finding a word he could pronounce to his relief. 'They're coming.' They watched the approaching medical staff, laughing until they could laugh no more as the glass door was pushed open.

'What the hell is going on here?' Dr. Walker demanded. 'Where have you been? Are you aware…'

'Dr. Toquemada personally!' Tony exclaimed. 'He's gonna take us down to his torture chamber.'

Dr. Walker's face paled until it appeared colorless. 'I beg your pardon,' he snapped.

'We're brave,' Jack said. 'We won't tell him an an anything.'

'They're obviously drunk,' he decided. 'They reek of beer. Take them into the bathroom and clean them up, and then get them into bed.'

'Yes doctor,' agreed the senior nurse on duty.

'And keep it down,' snapped Walker as they stood together, laughing. 'I'll be back in a sec; I'll just inform security they've returned.' He left and they found themselves marshaled towards a bathroom and stripped. Warm showers were turned on and they sat together on the floor, attempting to wash the beer from their hair, wiping tears of mirth from their eyes. The door opened presently and Walker entered, staring at them in disapproval. 'That should be enough. Escort them to bed and restrain them. I WILL NOT have them wandering around again tonight.'

'That's not a real good idea sir,' Tony protested. 'Not tonight. We need to be free tonight!'

'We need to get to the bathroom tonight,' Jack agreed. 'We had a few beers.'

Walker made a hasty exit. 'Deal with them,' he ordered. 'You two will regret this tomorrow,' he predicted, glaring at their fresh peals of laughter. 'We'll see what Colonel Phillips has to say about this performance!'

'You alive, Tony?' Jack muttered the following afternoon.

Tony stirred in bed and immediately wished he hadn't. A thousand hammers pounded his head and he squeezed his eyes shut. 'No,' he croaked and crawled beneath the blankets, blocking out all sound. He drifted off to sleep again, woken abruptly when his blankets were pulled from him.

'Get up,' the nurse ordered mercilessly, handing him a glass of ice water and a few tablets. 'Take that and tidy yourself up. The colonel will see you in twenty minutes.'

Tony stared unhappily across the room at Jack who was attempting to tidy his hair. 'Hi. Are we in trouble?'

'Yeah, it sure looks that way,' Jack agreed. 'Tony, I'll handle this. I'll talk and you just listen and agree, ok?'

'Whatever,' Tony groaned, swallowing the last of his water. They made their way to the reception area in the front of the hospital, entering an imposing office. Colonel Phillips, the head of the hospital was attired in his full uniform, making them feel more shabby by comparison in their dressing gowns.

'Captain Bauer and Lieutenant Almeida, I take it,' he began leaving them leaning on their crutches in the center of his office as he raked his eyes along them. 'I'm a fair man. I'll give you exactly two minutes to give me any excuses you may have before I'll throw the pair of you out of this hospital! Just what the hell do you imagine you were playing at last night?'

'Sir, let me begin by apologizing,' Jack began, throwing Tony a needless warning to remain silent. Tongue glued to the roof of his mouth Tony was more than willing to allow him to represent them both. 'Sir, we've been on active duty for years. We've seen things no human being should and we both got injured in our last engagements. The lieutenant was tortured and dragged before a crowd who tried to stone him to death. I was shot and left for dead. That type of trauma is bound to leave psychological scars. On our arrival we were treated like school boys requiring constant supervision. Last night's temptation to be normal humans proved too strong for either of us to resist. We're terribly sorry for any annoyance we caused you and this hospital and we swear nothing like that will ever happen again if you give us a second chance.'

The colonel examined them both in utter silence for several minutes while they struggled to remain on their crutches. 'You realize you're both extremely fortunate to be in this hospital,' he began. 'We have the best orthopedic team available right here, and we can teach you both to walk again and return to active duty. Annoy me one more time and I'll ship the pair of you home as cripples, and that is what you will remain without help. Do you understand me?'

'Yes sir,' they agreed in unison.

'Alright, I'll give you one final chance. Just one more, not a dozen. I'm going to ask for a report about the pair of you everyday - it better be a perfect one. I'll be charging you for the damaged clothes. Now get back to bed!'

Tony laid the notebook onto his table and took the photo of his parents, chewing his pen. He glanced carefully over at his roommate, who nodded his encouragement. 'Go on. Write to them.' He nodded, the misery of the previous weeks muted by their adventure. Somehow he had cheated death without any lasting injuries. Things were okay again.


End file.
